


Enough

by AnderSpice



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Final Fantasy XV Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnderSpice/pseuds/AnderSpice
Summary: Prompto is starting to feel useless to the group. Noctis needs him more than he'd ever let on.





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! Wow, it's been a while since I dipped my toes in fanfic, but something about this game made me want to pick up writing again. I really love the character of Prompto and wanted to try my hand at him and Noctis. The idea for this fic was born after playing Prompto's chapter, so there will be spoilers! I hope you guys enjoy.

Prompto couldn’t breathe.

He rolled, gun dissipating, the ground—though covered in mossy, damp grass—feeling like it was made of the same pointed daggers that Noctis sliced at the snake with as the behemoth twirled again, flicking its tail in the same way that currently had Prompto writhing and clutching at his stomach.

_You just got the wind knocked outta you, dude, you’re fine. You’re_ fine, _Prompto._

The little pep talk did help, but Prompto was convinced his lungs were collapsed and the tiny flecks of black he was starting to see in his vision didn’t help make that feeling any better. Nope. If he were to actually _pass out_ right then he’d never live down Noctis calling him princess—unironically, too. That just made things worse.

Midgardsormr reared up again, scales gleaming a dangerous black in the early evening sun, accurately matched the long fangs protruding from its open mouth. Ignis and Prompto’s eyes met—he hadn’t realized he’d just been observing the fight for the last couple of minutes. He was still trying to get his breath back, after all. Green eyes seemed to flare with something akin to a frenzied concern, a look that made Prompto uneasy. Ignis never did ‘ _frenzied_ ’. Maybe they really had bit off more than they could chew.

“Get up, dumbass! Do you want to be snake food?!”

Gladio shook Prompto from his thoughts, the rough hand on his shoulder lifting him back onto both feet as if he weighed the same as a baby chocobo. Maybe to Gladio he did.

“I—Uh, y-yeah, sorry!” Prompto’s words came out hoarse, stuttered as the usual insecurity of being the infamous damsel in distress that Noct loved teasing him about reared its face. He tried to push it away, heart thrumming enough adrenaline through the rest of his body to make his head feel a little less dizzy.

A gleam of blue light caught Prompto’s attention, breath momentarily catching as Gladio left his side and rejoined the fray. Prompto felt the _whoosh_ when Noctis teleported above him and he looked up just long enough to spy the bright blue hologram that marked where the crown prince once was.

Noct was beautiful like this and if Prompto didn’t know better he’d think he was hallucinating. Maybe he should add head injury to his list of bodily grievances.

Okay, maybe Prompto wouldn’t go that far as to describe the brooding king-to-be like that, but there was always something almost ethereal about watching him warp from spot to spot effortlessly, eyebrow lightly furrowed and blue eyes focused for once, _alive_ even. He easily shed the quiet, angry prince act while in the heat of battle. Maybe Prompto should be concerned about that, but he was mostly just fascinated.

The camera had materialized in Prompto’s hand without him even realizing it, a tiny voice in the middle of all this whispering to immortalize Noctis like he was. They could all be dead tomorrow, he reasoned. Or, more realistically, their adventure would end, Noctis would reclaim the throne, and Prompto would become a nobody to the prince. He thought about that more than he let on.

Still, maybe it would be a glamour shot to show off later, or maybe Prompto would just keep this one for himself. He shook his head. Nah… that was a weird thought. Either way he held the camera up and snapped the shot, hoping for the best as his vision made it difficult to tell if the photo was blurry of if his eyes just were.

“Get your fucking head back in the game, Prompto!” Came Gladio’s gruff yell from across the grassy field, the ground shaking with the weight of the snake only serving to drive his words deeper.

Still on the outskirts, Prompto produced his gun this time, a little less uncoordinated amidst the chaos but still out of it. He tried aiming and firing, but the bullets whizzed by the snake harmlessly as the gun in his hand quivered with a tremor he tried quelling. The world started swimming and Prompto felt his heart in his throat. His chest ached. Fuck, did it hurt. His entire body hurt.

 Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

He clutched his head again, woozy, ribs and chest both on fire from the powerful tail-lash that had sent him flying from one side of the field to the other. Black flecks continued eating at his peripheral until he was stumbling from it, trying to maintain his balance enough to continue moving and firing and reloading and firing and moving... He stumbled and the gun dematerialized.

_Useless._

The tell-tale electric feeling of Noct’s warping made the hairs on the back of Prompto’s neck stand. He turned in time to see his friend beside him, panting and disheveled but wearing his signature shit-eating grin that only showed itself when he was messing with Prompto. He knew what that was for even before Noct spoke.

Noct pulled a potion from inside his jacket and crushed it over Prompto’s head, the cool liquid melting into his scalp and briefly illuminating every strand of blonde on his head with the same blue that Noct radiated. He ducked in complaint of the iciness that trickled down his spine before being absorbed, wrinkling his nose in quiet protest at Noctis, though he was quietly grateful. Instantly the buzzing in Prompto’s head faded, energy renewed as if he’d downed a couple of those ‘ _sugary monstrosities’_  that Ignis despised so much but that Prompto and Noctis drank like water when they had the opportunity to. Being on the road all the time was exhausting, after all.

“Sorry for the wait, _princess,_ ” Noctis breathed into Prompto’s ear, purposely standing uncomfortably close as if to emphasize his letting all the weight of the sentence rest on that final word. Prompto was thrown by the sudden, intense warmth following the rush of coolness he’d just gotten accustomed to, a visible quiver crawling up his spine as tiny goosebumps prickled up and down his arms. The moment lasted just that long—a moment. Prompto could practically smell the ego leaking off his best friend right then, so incredibly full of himself that the slight blonde might have shoved him if it weren’t for the giant snake barreling toward them beneath the soil.

Noctis reacted instantly, instinctually, movements as swift as the snake’s as a tight grip wrapped around Prompto’s middle, shoving them both adjacent to where the plumes of dirt and grass were currently headed. Midgardsormr burst from beneath the hard ground in a spectacle of raining soil and rocks just a few dozen yards away from where a shaking Prompto lay beneath the crown prince. He understood Ignis’s look earlier. This thing was terrifying.

The prince looked disoriented himself for a second. The comfortable weight of him stayed pressed against Prompto, their breaths intermingling as Prompto took a second to close his eyes and try to re-center himself. He waited for Noctis to get up, but when he opened his eyes again, he met the gaze of his friend. For a second, the terror faded. There was fear in those blue eyes, but it wasn’t because of the snake. The look was meant for Prompto and Prompto alone and it made his insides feel as if they were shriveling up into dust. A barrage of questions flooded his mind but none made it to his lips.

Midgardsormr sent a stream of toxic poison just inches from where they lay, the putrid green liquid so offensively strong that Prompto yelped, turning away and covering his face, trying to squirm from beneath Noctis. Right. They were fighting. The weight atop him had already dematerialized.

_What the hell was that?_

 Prompto regained his footing much quicker this time around. He was shaken, more so by the look Noctis had been giving him than by the massive serpent and perhaps that said a lot about the blonde. He adjusted his vest back up onto his shoulder and held out gloved hands, gun materializing in a flourish. He wasn’t the best fighter on the team by far, but he was nimble and a damn good shot. That would have to do.

Gunshots rang out in the quarry as Prompto joined the fray again, staring up at the snake in a moment of awe. If it had been any other situation, Prompto might have thought the creature was a feat worth shooting with his camera. The bullets bounced off tough scales and the snake continued its rampage unabated.

“You’re just pissing it off!” Gladio voice hissed again as he dove in front of Prompto, deflecting an attack that’d probably have Prompto on his ass again. The sharp noise of fangs scraping against the metal shield Gladio brandished made the blonde wince.

_Shit._ He didn’t have a sword—he didn’t know how to _use_ a sword outside of the basics. But he did have something else.

The gun disappeared and the heavy weight of the bioblaster settled in his grip.  He looked down at it, hesitated, and then looked back up at his friends struggling to stay afloat, let alone defeat what seemed to be undefeatable.

“I-I got this! Distract him!” Prompto shouted to the group, knowing he was never one usually to give orders but he had a good feeling about this. He’d only used the bioblaster a handful of times before, but the results were always gloat-worthy when he did. He liked the machine, even if he was intimidated by it. It was dangerous.

Ignis looked up from where he’d planted his pole in the snake’s long abdomen, withdrawing the weapon and taking a few steps backward, dripping sweat from a usually composed brow. There was hesitance in those green hues now, but Prompto’s own begged the adviser to just give him this chance. None of them trusted Prompto with anything else but a camera in his hands and he was painfully aware of that. Prompto glanced frantically between the three, waiting for _someone_ to agree. He had to do this. He was useless otherwise, wasn’t he? _Just one chance_ , his eyes begged. _Please_.

“Do it!”

Noct’s voice rang out now, a hard gaze lined with beadlets of sweat locking on Ignis and Gladio who still seemed uncertain about Prompto’s request. It was a tone that none of the three had heard before and it stole Prompto’s breath a little. Noctis sounded like a king.

Ignis gave a barely perceptible nod at the command, running around front of the massive snake with Gladio splitting off to do the same on the opposite side; Noctis still teleporting attacks all around the Midgardsormr’s head in an attempt to disorient the snake.

_Now._

Prompto felt time stand still. He knelt beside the bioblaster, pressing the buttons on the oversized weapon until it started to whine, power glowing almost ominously to warn the user of its impending overload.

“Gaaah, I hate this paaaart,” Prompto whined beneath his breath nervously, anticipating the explosion. Midgardsormr whirled after sending Gladio flying, the poison from its fangs shooting a deadly stream across Prompto’s fallen team member. Gladio screamed as the venom soaked him.

_Fuck, fuck, fuuuck._

The mantra returned and Prompto’s nerves evolved into a muted sort of terror, one that he couldn’t show on his face but that radiated in shaking hands and a methodically bouncing knee from where he knelt.

“Come on, come on, please, _please,_ ” Prompto begged the weapon, knowing that he only had one shot at this. He watched Gladio writhe and choke, trying to regain his footing as Ignis rushed to his side beneath the onslaught of attacks. Noctis frequently did his own thing when they fought, but there was even a glimmer of fear on his expression when he rematerialized on the opposite side of the snake in hopes of distracting it from Ignis and Gladio. Prompto didn’t miss that look. Noctis was scared. Prompto was too.

The bioblaster initiated with a single pull of its massive trigger, the explosion of pure, electric fire enveloping the Midgardsormr all at once. The snake went still dead in its tracks at that and, when the smoke cleared, the group gaped at the mangled, headless corpse of the mighty beast still upright and tense as if preparing for a strike that wouldn’t ever happen. It fell backwards unceremoniously, the earth quivering beneath its weight as it landed.

Everyone was quiet for a beat, even Prompto. He stared in honest, open amazement at the sight of what was once one of their most formidable foes, not quite sure if he was dreaming or if something he’d proposed had actually… worked? No, it had to be a coincidence. He shook his head to himself, convinced. Noct probably did some weird, ‘chosen king’ thing at the same time as the bioblaster going off. Had to.

“Hoooly shit,” Gladio breathed, words mixed with grateful laughter. He’d pushed himself up, a little worse for wear but the antidote Iggy had given him made quick work of the monster’s venom. He approached Prompto, gaze confused at first, but there was something else beneath those hardened brown eyes that made Prompto’s heart swell. Gladio was proud of him.

It was the most attention Prompto had ever gotten—ever. The other members of the Crownsguard never treated him as an outcast, but he did notice they regarded him and Noct similarly. They were to be protected in battle, even if it wasn’t as intense with him as it was with Noct. He’d earned his nickname ‘princess’ quite well among the group it seemed. A part of him wondered if they only put up with him because Noctis favored him. It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Prompto’s expression faltered, gaze dropping momentarily to the grass beneath their boots in an attempt to let his mind stay numb for a little while. There was always something with almost dying that made him uncomfortably introspective. Gladio, still watching him, took note of the gamut of expressions that Prompto’s face reflected before it settled back onto its usual smile.

“Ah, it was nothin’,” Prompto waved it out, though he couldn’t fight the grin that split his lips. Yeah, he was going to let himself have this one. He saw Noct roll his eyes out of the corner of his vision and that just made his smile that much more prominent. He _never_ got to one-up Noctis—not in _King’s Knight_ , not during training, and certainly not during battle. This was a big accomplishment for him.

“Was a bit of overkill, don’t you think?” Noctis asked, clapping Prompto’s shoulder before halfheartedly poking at his side in a way he knew would make the blonde react. Prompto didn’t disappoint either, what with the jerking, wild movements he’d give even when something so much as brushed the ticklish spots lining his ribs.

“Dude! I just saved your ass! A simple ‘thank you’ would do.” He smirked back at his friend, shooing his hand away and feeling a little bolder than he normally did. This was a big fucking _deal._

Noctis just turned away, shaking out sore wrists and flexing his neck. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 Prompto just stared at Noctis’ back, trying not to let those words sting  and knowing that his friend was probably just lost somewhere in his head like he usually was. Besides, it wasn’t as big of a deal as Prompto made it out to be anyway, right? Anxiety started to creep up Prompto’s throat, instantly drying it. This was embarrassing. Of course Noct wasn’t impressed. He could summon _gods._

There was something to say about Prompto that the crown prince could so easily rattle his entire sense of self-worth without even trying. It’d always been this way, but the blonde had hoped he’d grow out of it. He wasn’t a people pleaser, he was a _Noctis_ pleaser. A part of him stayed convinced the latter was worse. He just wanted to be enough for Noctis. He owed the prince that much at least. Prompto swallowed the knot in his throat and painted the smile back on his face. _No._ He wasn’t going to do this to himself. Not today.

“Yeah, well, I think I did pretty good,” Prompto just responded, crossing his arms and shrugging as nonchalantly as he could. Noctis didn’t turn around.

Ignis stepped in between the two.

“Well,” he began, voice as comfortably aloof as ever though Prompto didn’t miss the slight quiver it held. “We’d best seek shelter before night falls.” A pause to adjust his glasses. Prompto tensed. Here it comes… “This part of Cleigne is infamous for its dangerous creatures.” He set a smoldering gaze on Noctis at that and Prompto wondered if Ignis would set the prince of fire with his eyes if he could.

Ignis was upset, but it was that quiet, disappointed sort of upset that Prompto hated. He didn’t know his real parents, but he imagined this is what it’d feel like getting caught sneaking out or making bad grades or whatever it was that parents were concerned with. It made sense for Ignis to be irritated, though, Prompto had to give him that. After all, he’d warned against them going down into the quarry, warned against them engaging the snake, and he’d warned against them attempting to stay and fight it. He was the voice of reason in their merry little band of misfits. Too bad nobody listened to him.

Still riding his high, Prompto skipped back up the hill to the car, humming his own personal victory theme as he hopped into the passenger seat without bothering to open the door. Noctis could brood over getting chewed out by Ignis alone this time. Prompto was a _super hero._

Grinning at the thought, the blonde settled in and sat back as Ignis started up the Regalia. He looked up in the rear view in time to spy Noctis watching him curiously, studying him like he might study one of their foes in battle. He didn’t blink, didn’t smile. He didn’t even seem present.  Prompto shifted uncomfortably at that, instantly self-conscious. There was probably something bigger than him going on beneath that mess of tousled black hair. He just spared Noctis a half-hearted smile, letting it hang lopsided as he flipped in his seat to look at the prince head-on.

“So… I’m thinking I deserve a ‘thanks for saving my life’ dinner tonight,” Prompto joked, wanting to lighten the surprisingly oppressive mood in the car. Gladio matched his energy at least.

“Yeah,” he chimed in as he sat forward so that Ignis could hear, seemingly agreeing until he went on, “I say we grill up some of that Garula steak we got leftover and toss it in a cup a’ noodles.” He sat back again, groaning and rubbing his stomach at the thought. “Perfect closer.”

Ignis just glanced up in the mirror at Gladio, expression softening just a touch. Maybe he was finally starting to be alright with them actually being alive. That was to be determined.

Prompto held up a hand, still looking at Noct. “Nope,” he quipped, shaking his head hard once before he pointed to his friend, enjoying this far more than he ought to be. “I want Noct to cook my favorite. He knows what it is and we have all the ingredients.”

Smug, the blonde flipped back around in his seat before Noctis could complain—not that it stopped him.

“Fat chance,” came the prince’s rebuttal in his usual deadpan. Prompto whined.

“Noct, c’mon, _pleaaase,_ ” he pouted, turning just his head to look at his friend this time. He gave his best impression of a freshly-hatched chocochick, blue eyes giant and begging. He let them water a little for effect, too.

“Noctis cooking…” Ignis mused, pulling into a spot beside the gas station as they rolled up to an outpost. Prompto kept up the look.

“ _No_ , Prompto.” Noctis bit the words this time, blue eyes darkening back to their almost midnight black beneath the fading sunlight. If he didn’t know better, Prompto might think he’d been scolded. Noctis opened his mouth to go on, but he looked at Prompto and shut his mouth again, that inquisitive expression returning as he stared at his friend. It seemed like he had something else to say, but the presence of the others in the car made him hesitant.

Gladio and Prompto exchanged glances at that—it was weird that they were actually riding the same wavelength—and Gladio laughed. He unfurled long legs, climbing out of the car and stretching with a long, low groan, arms reaching up toward the early twilight sky.

“Diner food it is.”

 

* * *

 

 

The bathroom was the only time Prompto ever really had to be alone. He peeled off his clothes one piece at a time, examining himself in the mirror through a furrowed brow, uncomfortable just looking at himself naked like he was. Still, the purpling bruise extending across the entirety of his ribcage took precedent and he winced at the sight. It looked worse than it was; potions were good like that. Fingertips idly caressed the hot skin of the bruise, intrigued at first before he began to press down, lower lip caught in between his teeth to silence the winced cry bubbling in his throat. The pain radiated lazily, different from when he was injured during battle. It didn’t feel as real. He could control this. At least he thought he could.

The air in the bathroom grew stagnant.  His finger trailed up over his pectoral muscle where the bruise was its lightest, watching the movement in the mirror but feeling more like a quiet observer the entire time. He got like this when he _did_ this. It was never _him_ causing the pain despite the dark, inked barcode staring back at him in the reflection saying otherwise. All he did was watch.

Prompto jerked his hand back and looked at it almost as if it’d betrayed him. He didn’t do that anymore. He’d made that promise to himself before they left. His gaze flickered to the faded trails lining the tops of either thigh like a roadmap. No, he didn’t do that anymore.

“Prompto! C’mon, I gotta take a leak!” Noctis banged on the door impatiently. Prompto jumped so badly he knocked the pile of toiletries he’d brought into the bathroom with him onto the floor. Scrambling to pick it all up, he glared at where Noct was no doubt standing. He wished the prince could see the look.

“Go outside then! I’m busy,” Prompto shouted back, starting up the shower to prove his point.

“Jerking off to Cindy isn’t the same thing as being ‘busy’, Prom.” Prompto could feel Noct’s smirk through the door. The freckles dotting his nose grew more prominent as the skin around them darkened to a deep, embarrassed red.

 “Aw, you’re blushin’, aren’t you?” Noct went on when Prompto didn’t immediately reply. Maybe they were too good of friends considering Noctis could read Prompto like a book.

Frustrated, the slighter of the two showered quickly and redressed, ghosting past Noctis when he opened the bathroom door. “You stood there the whole time?” He called over his shoulder as he plopped down on what he assumed would be his and Noct’s bed. The prince had already claimed it with his explosion of clothes and other little things they’d collected on their adventure.

“Yeah,” Noctis shrugged, downplaying it. “Wanted to hear you whining Cindy’s name since we both know you’re not a moaner.” Noct winked before he shut the door. Prompto wished the snake had eaten him. At least that way he wouldn’t be the butt of the prince’s jokes anymore.

“Dude! That wa—that was _one time!_ I saved you from being snake chow today, can’t we call it even?” Prompto flopped backward, covering his face with one of the pillows there. He hated how fair he was sometimes. He spent most of his time either really red from being embarrassed or from a lovely sunburn.

 Noctis finished up in the bathroom and reemerged, seemingly in better spirits than he’d been in during their battle. Something had been eating him but Prompto knew better than to ask what it was. Noctis would rather spend the rest of the evening giving the blonde a hard time and so, by the prince’s decree, that was apparently what was going to happen.

“Next time turn the shower on first,” Noctis responded cooly, amused by it all. There was a weird edge to his words, but Prompto wondered if he was just hearing that. He’d been on edge since the fight, but now Prompto thought back to even before they’d engaged the serpent. Maybe they’d all just gotten used to Noct’s dryness, but the past few days, the group had found themselves walking more on eggshells than they usually did.

“Dinner then bed. We had an eventful day,” Ignis was saying as he stepped up into the camper with two plates in hand. Prompto waited for Noct’s complaints about the vegetables lining the Garula steak Ignis had ended up grilling, but the prince was feeling too smug to protest. He took the plate, looking up at Prompto through his fringe with the same unreadable expression he’d been wearing in the car.

“Whaaat?” Prompto finally asked. It was starting to unnerve him.

“Nothing, princess _._ ”

Noctis finished his meal and laid down, signaling the conversation was over before it ever began.

 

* * *

 

Prompto had been struggling to sleep.

It wasn’t anything new, but since they started their adventure out on the road, the issue had exacerbated itself into Prompto now being uneasy with the idea of laying down and closing his eyes.

“Dude, stop squirmin’,” Noctis murmured groggily into the dark of the caravan, words mingling with Iggy’s soft breaths and Gladio’s deep, chesty snores.  Prompto found himself wondering how Ignis and Gladio could share a bed without complaint sometimes.

“Sorry,” Prompto whispered back instead of pretending to be asleep like he’d originally intended. Shifting onto his side, back to the prince, the smaller of the pair forced his eyes shut with determination this time. They were going to Hammerhead to fix up the Regalia in the morning, after all, and that would undoubtedly mean a run-in with Cindy.

Cindy.

Prompto’s face relaxed at the name. Between the monsters, Insomnia falling, and the endless waves of MTs, the perky blonde with the too-small denim jacket remained really the only sense of normalcy they all had, though Prompto especially. He didn’t cling to valor like the others, nor did he really have a stake in the war against the Empire as horrific as it was. He wasn’t like the them. He was different. He was an other.

_You aren’t real._

_Blue eyes opened with a cry, the table beneath his bare back hard and unyielding, cold and metal and lifeless, just like he was. He fought against the metal bands across his chest and ankles that kept him immobile, fear rushing in where confusion had previously been._

_He knew this place._

_The various, steady beeps sounding in the background were familiar noises. His eyes darted to their corners, spying the giant containers of murky liquid. Inside, faceless beings floated like bloated fish, unmoving. He wasn’t even sure they were alive._  

_A whirring sound began, intermingling with the mechanical noises that unnerved Prompto already and he felt his heart shudder to a near stop, fear flooding him even if he wasn’t exactly sure why. That sound… He began to jerk again, wincing but trying to free a hand at least. If he could, he could summon his pistol, he could defend himself at least… he wasn’t useless..._

_A masked MT stepped forward, the metal step of its and a dozen matching foot falls all stopping together until those faces were all Prompto saw surrounding the table. They stared ahead, immobile, not even drawing breath. He froze just like they did, only he doubted their hearts were beating as hard as his was._

_“Unit 0-5-9-5-3-2-3-4 – defective,” spoke a decisive, female computer voice. The MTs all tensed at that, metallic gaze training down on a prone Prompto all at once. He stared up into the blackness of their eyes beneath the metal, feeling them draining the soul he knew he had and he knew they wished they could feel._

_“Determination: disposal.” The computer finished._

_“No,” Prompto breathed in disbelief, blinking back those tears now. “I’m not--I-I… I’m not one of you! Can’t you see that?! Listen to me!” Prompto’s gaze went wild at that, trying to focus on his breathing, but he was hyperventilating and drawing air had become less of a chore and more of a necessity.  “I’m not a unit! Please, just—just listen!” Wasn’t that supposed to be obvious? He was Prompto. He had a name… he had friends._

_“Please…”_

_When he looked down toward the MTs at his feet, a rotund belly stared back up at him. He flexed tiny fingers, breathing so harshly that he could swear the table shook from it. He looked up at the MTs that looked and felt so much bigger than him now as he lay helplessly at their mercy. Just as he always was. Helpless._

_The etchings on his wrist burned._

“No…”

Sweat soaked the sheets between Prompto and the prince. He was frozen in his sleep state aside from  jerking movements of his head, little mumbles that sounded like screams in the dream the only sign he was caught up in an experience he didn’t want to be in.

“Prom? Prompto, c’mon,” Noctis sat up, looking down at his friend in slight annoyance at first until the saw the expression on Prompto’s face. His breath caught, every inch of him instantly wanting to erase the stress lines sewn deep into Prompto’s expression, those lips that were usually curled up into some sort of grin tightly pursed now, tears dripping steadily enough out of shut eyes to wet the pillow beneath Prompto’s head. This wasn’t the first night he’d seen him have a nightmare; it’d become a pretty regular occurrence lately. But this was the first time Noct had ever seen him crying.

“Prompto?” Noctis near whimpered the name, voice tiny and shaken. Concerned, he gripped his friend’s shoulder now, shaking him awake as best he could without disturbing the others.

_“Dissection is to commence prior to disposal. I want to know what went wrong with this unit.”_

_Another voice spoke this time, colored thickly with Nifilheim’s usual drawl. It sounded bored, calculating as if the specimen it referred to wasn’t a living, breathing human being._

_Prompto cried out at the word ‘dissection’, feeling what little he had left in him kick into overdrive with desperation. The chill of an MT’s heavy hand against his chest stilled him as the violent whirring of the mechanized hand of its counterpart began to follow through with its orders._

_“You aren’t human.”_

_This voice was different. This voice Prompto knew. The lazy curl of each syllable, the sharply accented words… He knew that voice. He_ knew _that voice._

_“Yes, I am!” Came Prompto’s shaking resolve. He was. He knew he was._

_“It isn’t too late for you to come home, Prompto Argentum. It isn’t too late, unit 0-5-9-5…”_

 “No!” Prompto cried out the word, eyes open and blood shot, not truly seeing for a second as freed arms finally attempted to come up and cover his face. His entire body shook from the force of it and he tried to stop it when he finally noticed a worried Noctis staring at him. Tried to being the key words.

“I-I… I w-was… I saw, uh… sorry…” Prompto attempted at whispering, but the words came out jumbled, confused and inarticulate, just as they had all those moons ago when he and Noctis first met. He expected the cool amusement Noctis usually’d give him in response to uncomfortable things like this happening between them, but Noctis’ face was dark again, studying Prompto in concern before he wordlessly pulled his friend into his arms.

There wasn’t any stillness. There wasn’t any awkwardness, not that Prompto would’ve cared if there was. Instantly, he made himself small against Noctis, curled up as close to the prince as he could manage as wave after wave of fear washed through his body like Midgardsormr’s venom, eating at each little neuron in his brain until all he could do was shake.

He hadn’t told Noctis about the barcode. He hadn’t told Noctis about not being from Lucis. He didn’t deserve this.

Prompto felt lightheaded.

Noctis, not privy to the war happening inside Prompto’s head, didn’t speak. He tightened his grip around the smaller of the pair, face unreadable in the darkness, though Prompto could feel the worry leaking off the prince. Still, he stayed close to Noctis. He felt safe there.

A few minutes passed and Prompto quieted. He let his ear rest against Noct’s chest, listening to the steady _ba-dum_ of his heartbeat. The slightest part of him smiled at that, throat tightening but feeling the weight of the nightmare carefully fade until all he felt was rawness. Grounded, he noticed Noct’s careful stroking of his back now, the prince’s face pressed into his hair as the opposite arm wrapped around Prompto’s waist to keep them close. Noctis had always been protective over Prompto, the blonde just hadn’t known the extent of it until right then. The guilt simmered steadily.

Noctis laid back down. He shifted carefully as if trying not to disturb a frightened animal and Prompto didn’t fight it. He wasn’t sure he had the energy to if he wanted, anyway.

“Here,” Noctis finally murmured as he looked up at Prompto expectantly, holding open an arm in invitation to his friend and wanting him to settle there. It wasn’t the first time they’d slept at least semi-wrapped up in one another, but that usually happened sometime during the night unintentionally. This was different.

Prompto settled next to Noct, face pressed to the spot right beneath his chin as he focused on steadying his breathing. Noctis smelled nice. He smelled like home. Noct’s arm settled around back of him again after tugging the blankets up around them. It started up that slow, soothing rub again, fingertips massaging and idly working at any little knots they felt beneath them.

“Sorry.” Prompto felt obligated to say it. For a lot of reasons.

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Awww, look at the lovebirds!”

Gladio’s booming voice worked better than any alarm clock, Noctis was more than certain of that. He hadn’t wanted to start the day irritated, but he was going to. Thanks, Gladiolus.

“Let them sleep, Gladio,” came Ignis’s quiet, chastising tone, distracted as the sound of him prepping to start breakfast overshadowed his words. “I daresay this is the first time I’ve seen Noctis asleep without a scowl on his face.”

Gladio just laughed at that, heavy bootfalls marking his departure from the caravan. Noctis stayed where he lay, but he opened his eyes now that the other two from their party were preoccupied. Squinting at first, he shifted as slightly as possible and looked down at a still-snoozing Prompto tucked comfortably against his side and beneath the blankets. His throat always tightened when he saw the little blonde like this. Noctis wasn’t stupid, there was a lot of sadness in his friend and he wore it when he slept. The mask was gone and those plush lips weren’t curled eternally upward anymore. Prompto from the night prior flashed through his mind and all Noct could do in response was hold him tighter.

_Fuck_ , what was going on?

Noctis tried falling back asleep himself, but his mind refused to shut off. This wasn’t Prompto’s first nightmare, nor did Noctis think it would be his last. They’d started up after the fight with Titan, Noctis knew that well enough considering they shared a bed almost nightly together. It used to just be mumbling in Prompto’s sleep. He’d have full on inaudible conversations with some antagonist that usually ended in his waking with a start or finding himself curled up to Noctis just as they were now—Noctis had gotten over the uneasiness of ‘cuddling’ fairly quickly when he saw how badly Prompto needed it. They never spoke about it the next day either, though that was mostly because Prompto didn’t seem to remember whatever he’d dreamt about and they’d find their way apart during the rest of the night once he’d received whatever comfort he needed from Noctis.

Last night, however, things had been different. The look of horror clouding those blue eyes had almost been enough for Noctis to summon a weapon. Whatever it was, it hadn’t just been a nightmare. Prompto’d looked as if he’d just witnessed death itself.

Noctis didn’t mind that Prompto was still pressed against him this morning. He hadn’t expected it, partly because Prompto—subconsciously or otherwise—had a habit of making himself as small as possible on their shared mattress in order to give Noctis as much room as he wanted. He seemed to like doing that, making himself small.

He was doing just that right then, only he’d tangled his legs with Noct’s, arms folding against his own chest but the tight grip in Noct’s shirt was enough to let the prince know he wasn’t allowed to get up just yet. A smirk quirked Noct’s lips at that. _He_ wasn’t allowed to do something. Aside from Ignis _trying_ to control him at times, Noctis was quite used to doing whatever he wanted. This, though, was a change he didn’t mind.

“What’s going on in that head’a yours, Prom?” Noctis sighed down into the mess of unruly blonde, nosing slightly at the unkempt strands that went whatever which way they wanted to without the help of hair gel. Prompto was the most important person in his life now. Aside from his father, Noctis hadn’t really known any true family. Ignis and Gladio were his royal guard, but he knew they wouldn’t be in his life if it hadn’t been on his father’s orders. Prompto, though… he was different. Noctis hadn’t ever met anyone who wanted to know him as _Noctis_ and not the crown prince of Lucis. Prompto was it and he was enough.

It occurred to Noctis then that he really didn’t know much about Prompto, nor had he ever really asked. Prompto never would volunteer information, they both knew that, and despite Prompto being quite content with it, their friendship had become wholly one-sided. Noct’s eyebrows scrunched slightly at the thought and a part of him feared knowing Prompto any deeper than he already did. They had something nice going—at least on Noct’s end—though something was rattling his friend and they needed to figure out what it was. If not for the sake of their friendship, for the sake of the war against the Empire.

Noct just went back to stroking Prompto’s back, gaze locked on the faux-wooden walls of the caravan adjacent to where they lay, though his mind was a thousand miles away back in Insomnia.

_“You want to bring your… friend… along with you to Altissia? You realize this is a diplomatic mission, Noctis, do you not?”_

_Noctis sat opposite of his father across the dinner table, pushing around the broccoli Ignis had tried—and failed—to hide inside the quiche he’d cooked for breakfast. Noctis had expected this sort of pushback, but he knew and the king knew he’d wind up bringing Prompto anyway. He was asking as more of a formality if anything. From the corner of the dining hall, Noctis could practically feel Ignis rolling his eyes in exasperation._

_“He’s already gone through the process of joining the Crownsguard, father,” Noctis pressed, voice its usual, lazy detached. He took a bite of the food in order to show his good faith to a closely-watching Ignis, though he didn’t break his gaze from his father’s. King Regis looked uncertain. “And he’s a good shot! You should see him at practice. You give him any kinda gun and he already knows it frontwards and backward. It’d be good to have someone along who can use weapons like that.” Noctis paused again, knowing he needed Prompto along. Between Ignis and Gladiolus, the prince might wind up defecting._

_King Regis sat back in his chair, wincing as he extended his injured leg though a hard gaze stayed trained on his son. It was rare for Noctis to be passionate about anything, including his marriage to Lady Lunafreya. The king didn’t overlook that, either._

_“Very well,” came the king’s response, words accented only by a slight nod of his head. He sat forward again, fingers tented on the table but a hard gaze boring through his son so intensely that Noctis had to look away. “But remember: you are a prince first and foremost and you carry an incredible burden on your shoulders. Your duty is and always will be to Lucis.”_

 “Hey.”

Noctis was drawn abruptly out of the memory, his confusion visible on his face for a second. He shifted just enough to look down at Prompto, noting the nervousness he exuded now. Even though, really, would he be Prompto if he wasn’t at least a little nervous? He felt Prompto’s movements get a little frantic as he tried wriggling from beside Noctis.

“Hey,” Noctis murmured back, releasing Prompto who didn’t immediately move now that he had confirmation Noct was awake. Noctis could feel the heat of his face from where it was pressed against the Prince’s collar and the slightest of smirks quirked his face. He might’ve even keened from it had things not been so tense between them. Or, as it were, between Prompto and whatever was going on inside his head.

“Aww, you’re blushing again,” came Noct’s obligatory teasing. It wasn’t really teasing, though. Prompto’s face went red at just about anything, though it was the most entertaining around Cindy. Prompto let out an indignant little laugh at that and Noctis finally let himself relax. Prompto was okay.

“Noct, I swear you have a sixth sense for that with me. It’s creepy, dude,” the smaller murmured as lightheartedly as he could manage, sitting up now but still avoiding Noct’s gaze, instead preoccupied by the pooling of the blanket in his lap.

Noctis was always pretty shit at this. He didn’t know how to comfort people and it wasn’t for a lack of empathy—it was just one of those things living as a prince he’d always been buffered against. Their troops dying in the war had always just been numbers. A hundred killed during a battle at The Wall. Sixty lost during a base raid of an Empirical complex. Numbers.

“Hey,” Noct repeated the word, though it was much softer now. Still laying, he propped his head up on an arm and just studied Prompto’s face, not bothering to try and hide his concern. Reaching out, he gripped the blonde’s chin and carefully lifted it so those bright blue eyes met his own, though they weren’t so bright right then. Prompto didn’t protest.

“What’s going on with you?” the prince went on, choosing his words as carefully as he knew how to.

There was a moment of rough silence. Prompto seemed like he was a searching for a response and Noctis wondered if maybe he’d stepped over an undrawn line. This was for the sake of their team, or so he told himself. Or perhaps it was more because he didn’t know how to be strong without Prompto there as his buffer now that he couldn’t hide in the Citadel any longer.

“Nightmare,” came the lackluster response. Noctis didn’t buy it, but he knew better than most about being evasive. Usually he preferred if people would take the hint and comply with his unsaid request to just _leave it_ , but he broke his own rule and pressed.

“Nightmare.” He echoed the word, unconvinced, and Prompto just sighed a weary sort of sigh that had Noct’s stomach churning. He’d never seen his friend like this. “Was it about the snake?” Noctis kept trying. Prompto seemed frustrated. He waved a hand dismissively and then ran that same hand through his hair until it stuck up straight like Iggy’s did on a good day.

“Yeah, you know, mega-snakes, gigantic demons with fire swords, sabretooth tiger things, skeletons, mountains that are also turtles, little floating balls of murderous ice…” the blonde began listing, shrugging as he spoke. He was trying his hardest to be casual, but his voice was unsteady. It reminded Noctis of how Prompto would get when they had to give presentations in class. He feigned confidence well, but anyone who knew what to look for knew just how fake all that ‘confidence’ really was.  “Just your typical, run-of-the-mill nightmare fuel.”

“MTs?” Noctis volunteered the word quietly. Prompto flinched as if he’d been struck before he could catch himself.

“Those too,” Prompto replied, but all the mirth had faded from his tone. He sounded ten again, only the relentless bullying he experienced came from his own head now. It took him a moment, but he frowned at Noctis as if he were confused why the prince would bring the mechanical soldiers up. Comparatively, they were the most normal things the group of them fought.

MTs. Noctis released Prompto then, worry settling in where confusion had been before. MTs? Why would he be afraid of MTs? Prompto’s gun skills made little work of them. Considering all they dealt with, MTs were the adversaries his friend performed against best.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Ignis stepped inside the caravan with a grunt, hardly batting an eye at the display in front of him. He grabbed a few spare bags he and Gladio had left behind before straightening and looking at the pair again. “You’ve slept in late enough. Get dressed; we have quite the journey ahead of us today.”

Just as quickly, Ignis was gone and Prompto was already up and out of bed, clambering to comply with the request almost gratefully considering any chance of the conversation continuing between he and Noctis had been killed. Maybe it was for the best even if Noctis knew that was a lie.


End file.
